


The Best of the Worst

by MistakeMakingInProgress



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Brutal Murder, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Flirting, Healthy Relationships, High School, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Stalking, Teenage Drama, Yandere, except surprise! the 'yandere' half isnt a douche, it'll happen once or twice but it won't be too confusing, tuzi can and will throw down for carlos, yes from the yandere but he's not the worst one in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-12 02:18:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15329523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistakeMakingInProgress/pseuds/MistakeMakingInProgress
Summary: Carlos Demiraz lives in a world where some people are more animal than human, no big deal. There's no discrimination among these hybrids, and some of them are even considered to be signs of great luck. While Carlos himself isn't one of these hybrids, he's happy to walk with them. His strange friendships bring him solace in an otherwise hellish experience that is high school torment and a rather uncaring family. However, his suffering seems to turn over a new leaf with the arrival of an upperclassman named Tuzi, an extremely rare Rose Hare hybrid. Everyone naturally gravitates to the genetic wonder and his boundless charisma, but Carlos notices how his yellow eyes keep coming back to him..





	1. Midyear Addition

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not certain how long this story will trail on, but at *least* 3 chapters past this are gonna happen. for now, just enjoy Tuzi's integration. no murder yet, he's got no reason to presently >;3

The courtyard to Saint Helena High was always bustling with activity in the mornings, but the height of the excitement always came around holidays. Pride week was in full swing, student volunteers scrambling around to decorate the outside of the building. Some people came earlier than others to laze about freely, while others would cut the time close and sprint through the doors in the nick of time. Carlos usually tried to give himself a few minutes to simply take in the sights and catch quick pieces of the latest news from the groups he'd pass by. He was one of the last to arrive out of his friends, since he had to walk to school, so he got to witness the swaying movement of the gathered cliques in their claimed territories. The jocks lorded over the shades benches, the divas the patch of grass just besides the stairs, he could list them off endlessly. He'd been praised for his skills in observation, and he often found them being used in relation to spacial awareness. Often times, he was so caught up in taking everything in down to the minuet detail that he'd accidentally make a fool of himself in some fashion. It probably was the main source of his ridicule besides his interests.

"Hey, Demiraz!" He jerked his head up at the mention of his name, looking to the source. He sighed a breath of relief when he realized it came from his neck of the woods. One of his friends, Chelsea, was settled down in the tree above the rest of their pack, her spider legs dangling from the tree branches. "Get your scrawny butt over here before I lasso you in!"

"Your aim is awfully inaccurate in my experience, isn't it?" he asked as he approached, looking up to her balled up form.

"Shut up, it's not my fault I wasn't born with the  _usual_ amazing spidertaur vision," she huffed, a hand to her chest in mock offense. Another way Carlos used his intellect was soaking up as much information as possible, particularly when it came to something so fantastical as the people around him. Chelsea was a partial spidertaur, meaning her lower half was all spider, but her torso barely showed the effects of her genes. He'd assessed that the species she was based off was something akin to the Goliath Birdeater, or at least a relative to it. She could produce webbing strong enough to down some of the most tough football players, though she hardly used her silk with that purpose. She scarcely needed to eat, her diet composed of high protein and sodium, with the occasional calcium and glucose. Her vision was poorer than most of her kind, only possessing two eyes instead of the standard four, and to make matters worse, she needed glasses to match with regular human eyesight.

"Laser eye surgery would probably do you some good, you know," he said, Diego glancing up from his leaning spot against the trunk. Diego was a purebred Dingo hybrid, possessing the legs and ears of the implied canine. His sense of hearing was better than his nose, which often times was scent blind. His hands had permanent claws that were fairly blunt, and he had short fur at his scruff. Diego was more of the quiet type, only speaking when he felt was necessary. Which was fine, since he was a selective mute. None of the group was bothered by this in the slightest. The candid hybrid gave Carlos a curt nod before returning to his lax posture.

"Most doctors don't even have the experience to mess with spider eyes, you dolt," Chelsea scoffed, skittering down the tree. "Looks like you aren't the rotten egg today, Carl, Beatrice hasn't shown up yet."

"Don't call me Carl, you know I hate that. Do you think she overslept again?"

"Probably, you know that birdbrain," she snorted, fangs peeping out of her mouth in her playful sneer. As if on cue, they heard the speedy clicking of talons over pavement as Beatrice body slammed into Chelsea with the typical bird screech. Carlos followed the pair with his eyes as they toppled over in the grass, spider legs and scarlet feathers flailing about.

"Omigosh I'm so sorry I was late dad left early and mom didn't wake up because she was trying to get my baby brother to sleep and he kept her up until like 3 in the morning so--"

"Jesus, Bea, it's fine!" she laughed, hugging her to her chest so they could flip over and stand back up. "I know how your family is, and you're just as much of a fluffy disaster as your parents."

"I am not fluffy, I'm generously groomed," the bird huffed. Carlos could easily decipher that Chelsea's girlfriend was some sort of Bearded Vulture hybrid. Instead of hair, she had a thick plumage of feathers merely disguised as hair, with her arms being a strange mesh of forearm and wing. Her fingers were prehensile feather like digits that not even Carlos fully understood. Their biology teacher loved fawning over the oddity; supposedly it was a sign of perfectly spliced genes mutating into a new strand. He wasn't sure, that kind of information wasn't something easily researched. Besides Bea's genetic anomaly, she had a fan of bright red tail feathers and the feet of the vulture. The three hybrids were some of Carlos' most valued companions, and they made his time at Saint Helena easier on him.

He didn't like talking about it, preferring to focus on the silver linings offered to him, but his own life was that of a classic outcast turmoil. Uncaring parents that only seemed to notice when he did something wrong or his grades slipped, a gaggle of meatheads who found him to be a delightful punching bag, and overall, the typical high schooler's unpleasant experiences.

Carlos perked up when the fist bells sounded, students all around him gathering their things and rushing up the stairs. Having not put down his books, he merely followed behind the flow of people, backed by Diego and lead by the happy couple. Chelsea and Beau had been dating for as long as he'd known them, and not once had he seen them disagree to a detrimental point. Their chemistry was impeccable, and he supposed it made sense with Chell's endless patience.

The halls to Saint Helena showed signs of life all around, with scratched up lockers and leftover stains from senior pranks. Murals were scattered everywhere, a testament to the school's supposed support for artists. Though he knew it was merely a front; most of their funds went to the sports department, the rest evenly distributed throughout courses. He supposed it could have been worse, but he wouldn't have minded if their funds were more fairly given out. He shook his head with a sigh, separating from his clique with a gentle wave. The first class of the day was music theory, and while he was still a little drowsy, he was glad to have it so early in the morning. He could relax and adjust the jingle he'd been slaving over for the latest assignment, which wasn't due for a few more days. He could refine the piece at his own leisure.

* * *

For whatever reason, Carlos always felt like Tuesdays were the worst days to come to school. There was leftover Monday displeasure, and the middle point of the week was still a good 24 hours away. They seemed to always drag on too. This lethargic feeling was rooted deeply in his core, and he had to clench his jaw to avoid yawning. It didn't help that his next class was algebra, a subject he just couldn't seem to master. Sure, he had a solid 76, but his parents still chastised him for the 'record low since your older sister.' He pushed the thought aside and dropped into his seat, shifting around until he was comfortable. There was an oddly excited thrum to his classmates, and it took him a few moments of eavesdropping to understand why.

"Dude, I heard we got a new student coming in! Supposedly he's some kind of big deal."

"I hope he's got a nice face, I'd hate to see more pimple faced lowlifes ruining the scenery."

"Oh shut up, Bethany, we all know you pluck your eyebrows and have your mom help you with your eyeliner."

"Wh- That was a rumor from like, two weeks ago, that's old news, biatch!"

"Will both of you hags shut your puffy lips? Haven't you heard?"

"Yeah yeah, new kid, basic shit."

"You're so dated it hurts. This kid's another hybrid, but get this, he's some kind of  _rare_ hybrid."

"Rich and rare, sounds like a score to me~."

"God, you're such a fucking slut, Mikena."

Carlos feigned innocence by busying his hands, though he spared the clucking hens a few glances. New kids in the middle of a semester weren't unheard of, but it wasn't usually delivered with such hype. In fact, usually nobody noticed the new kid until they'd already been in class a few times. Except Carlos. He suspected he had some sort of condition that caused the compulsion to see and know  _everything,_ but it wasn't something he worried about. It gave him the ability to soak up information without falling victim to the soulless craze that seemed to grip the student body. Or at least that's how he like imagining it. Poetry made more sense than people, most of the time.

Their professor walked in with a steaming cup of coffee as the bell ran, and just behind him, was the newest addition to algebra. Carlos nearly dropped his textbook, and he was almost certain someone behind him had dropped their gum in awe. He really did look high class; he was suited up in the school's provided uniform, not that it was enforced, but the way he'd left the dress coat open and rolled the cuffs up made him look like the top dog. He practically oozed with confidence. Carlos flicked his gaze up to the top of the teen's head, fixating on the tall pink ears that stood at attention. They looked like a rabbit's, but he'd never seen a pink bunny hybrid before. It was fully possible that the fur had been dyed, but he couldn't see any inconsistent patches to indicate a dye job. But that only confused him more at the sight of his pink hair.

"Yes yes, class," their teacher spoke up, "you can gawk and ask him questions after class, we have a lesson to get through. Mr. Treehelm, there's a seat available in the back."

"Gotcha." The hybrid gave him a thumbs up as he walked, bag slung over his shoulder with such casualty. Like his hair, his bag was a vibrant pink, and this would have normally caused a few snickers if it had been anyone else. As 'Treehelm' passed by, Carlos didn't miss the wink he gave Mikena and Bethany. He was willing to bet if her friend hadn't been there, Mikena would have swooned out of her chair. Disappointed, Carlos rolled his eyes and turned his head back towards the professor's desk. He'd been hoping the new student wasn't the type to cozy up with the popular crowd, but he already figured it was the most likely option. Nobody shunned the cool kids unless they seriously wanted to make their prison sentence that much more rough.

"Alright class, turn to page 103 and we can get back to the matter at hand." If he was honest, he didn't really pay attention to the lesson much. It was more review, since the bulk of the class had failed their last test, so he wasn't worried about missing anything, but he couldn't shake a feeling of creeping chills from his spine. He spared another glance over his shoulder to try and gauge the source, only to briefly catch the new student's eyes. He'd quickly looked back to the front of the room, shivering lightly. He wasn't sure why yellow eyes suddenly unnerved him so much—this wasn't the first time he'd seen the color—but he guessed it must have been this sense of being watched. In the same way an owl spied a mouse it'd spotted in the far distance. The feeling persisted until the lesson's end, which stopped with the professor's precise flick of the textbook cover. "Alright, you're free to hound over him, but if I get any reports, expect a mark on your record. And I know  _some of you_ can't afford to have another one." Their teacher walked out with his empty mug, and Carlos figured he was headed to the break room for a refill. Almost immediately, he heard the screech of bumped desks and shoved chairs, and he knew the new guy was likely already surrounded by his classmates. He starting packing away his supplies while he listened to the madness at his southeast.

"So big boy, what kind of hybrid are you?~ A sexy playboy bunny?"

"God, Mikena, chill your skank levels for five seconds!"

"Ladies, ladies, please control yourselves." The way he spoke was careful, only made relaxed by the laughter in his words. "There's no need to fight over me, I'm going to be here all year." He could sense a hint of formality behind his words as well, his tone forced into casualty. Perhaps he was used to talking in a more sophisticated manner.

"They're always like that. You actually showed up in uniform? Only the pansy assed teacher's pets do that, bro."

"First impressions are everything, figured I'd dress to impress," he replied, and Carlos could tell he was moving around in the room, followed by the fawning gathering he'd garnered. He shook his head again, focusing back on his own little world. Their conversation appeared inconsequential, so he stood from his desk and started for the door. He was already planning his route to phys ed, watching the clock impatiently. Gym was usually the worst class for him, where he was surrounded by mocking faces and people more fit than him. The ring of the bells signaled his release, and he took a sharp left towards the direction of his locker. He quickly hugged to the wall, avoiding the rush of hurried bodies heading away from him. His power walk slowed when the chill down his back returned, punctuated by pins and needles at his spine. He elected to ignore the feeling for the moment, fumbling with his locker combo before it opened. In the most organized fashion he could in his rush, he placed his books and folders in a tidy tower. He'd brought in a small shelf made to fit in lockers, so it saved him some time to make it to his locker room before the—

"Hey." Carlos swore he would have jumped out of his skin, though he momentarily thought about if he'd been a gecko hybrid, and an image of his tail falling off in his surprise came to mind. He pushed his locker door closed to see the new guy waiting behind it, one of his hands casually on the wall of lockers.

"..Hey?" This was new. He'd never been approached first unless someone needed to ask him a question, or they had his harm in mind. He didn't dare server their eye contact, but just looking into the cadmium iris' unnerved him. Were his eyes always that dilated?

"You seem like someone who knows their way around," he started slowly, and Carlos was already a little relieved. Just the new guy asking directions, he could deal with that. "Do you know where AP Biology is?"

"Uh. Yeah, you go down this hall, make the first turn on the right--"

"I meant more so if you could show me the way, I don't exactly have the best sense of direction," the other laughed, and Carlos could feel the amusement behind it even if the laugh itself had been fake.

"I'm sorry, but I don't really have the time to show you, I've got to make it to phys ed, coach isn't the nicest--"

"No worries," he interrupted, and his other hand flicked a pair of hall passes out from his sleeve. Carlos stalled, blinking blankly at the green parchments. Where did he get those, and why did he have two?- "I was late getting into the building and the hall monitor gave me two by mistake. Her signature isn't very hard to forge, and she wrote it in pencil."

"You- Why did?- I mean, I guess I could lead you there..?" His confusion must have been obvious, his stomach twisting around. It seemed a little suspicious, _conveniently_ having the perfect amount of passes and easily being able to fake a signature.

"Great. You'll be needing this for your coach, yes?" he asked, offering him one of them with a suave hand tilt. Carlos gingerly plucked the paper from between his fingers, and he hadn't missed how his nails seemed to curve into the slightest form of claws. He'd seen rabbit hybrids with claws before, but they usually kept them snipped down to the nail beds to keep them from becoming a nuisance. "Lead the way then, if you wouldn't mind?" Carlos was pulled back out of his stupor, and he merely gave the other a nod before starting down the hall. The bell had already rang, but with the pass clutched in his hand, the anxiety of being late had been cautiously lifted. He glanced to it as he walked, and was surprised to see a flawless mimic of the hall monitor's penmanship. If this really was a fake, he was impressed by how difficult it was to tell. He almost wondered what the new student's actual handwriting looked like. Carlos lifted his head to scan for the desired room number, before motioning towards the biology lab.

"Right there, next to the courtyard door," he explained, shrinking away from the intense gaze trained back on him. He wasn't sure why his eyes were so intimidating, but he did his best to disguise his flinch as him adjusting his hoodie.

"Thanks for the help. I'll probably see you around more, yes?" he asked as he passed, already starting towards the classroom door. He paused with his hand on the door frame, "do take care, go the long way around." And with that, he dipped into the room, and Carlos could hear the same bated silence that had happened when the hybrid had walked into algebra. Carlos stood motionless for a moment, confused by the advice. After a moment of mulling it over, he thought it best to heed his warning, even if it was quite strange. He didn't bother stifling the shudder that wracked his body as he passed by the biology lab.


	2. A Foot in Two Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few more interactions shall be sprinkled in before we get to the good shet. this one's a bit more dialogue heavy than the last, but the conversations should be at least entertaining.

Gym was the usual traumatic experience, but the routine of nitpicking and horsing around just couldn't seem to get through for once. Carlos went through the physical effort of class, but his mind was elsewhere. This new kid, Treehelm. There was something very weird about him, the brand of something he couldn't decipher. The closest word he had to describe this aura around him was something close to restrained. He carried himself like an animal trained to walk in a certain way, or bark only when commanded to. His language was stiff, his voice smoothed to the point of passive compliance. Like all he said or did was based solely on what got the most positive reactions out of whatever public eye was on him. A circus animal, for lack of a better term.

In a way, Carlos felt compelled to know him now. There _had_ to be something underneath the good Samaritan. The mannerisms, the pink fur, everything about him prompted curiosity. Even more so because of how strangely nice he'd been towards Carlos. Maybe it was because of his natural distrust after years of harsh treatment, but the hybrid seemed unnaturally gentle to him. He didn't have the time to assess it any further, he decided, quickly changing back into his clothes and dashing out from the locker room. The boys locker room held many unpleasant memories, ranging from bruises to emotionally scarring imagery. After escaping the hell of sweat and overly masculine conversations, he could wander the halls in peace. His appetite was always gnawing at him once phys ed was over, and thankfully, whatever god in charge of picking his schedule decided that lunch after gym was the best medicine for terrible experiences involving the wrong cliques.

Carlos returned to his locker to snag his lunch, fixing the messy stack of supplies that had been jostled around in his previous rush. When he nudged it closed with his foot, he turned just in time to catch a glimpse of pastel pink ears flash in the crowd. There wasn't an accompanying cold chill, so he assumed he mustn't have seen him. He quickly shuffled around the opposing corner, off towards the cafeteria. He had a hunger to satisfy, and he figured there was no better place to pick up information than the surging thrum of people that was lunch. Going through the lines proved monotonous, not that he expected to get anything out of it. It was when he emerged from the perfectly arranged lines that he started gathering puzzle pieces. In just a few moments of steadied footsteps, he snatched what he could from the tables he passed.

"Dude, Jack Daniels is one of the shittiest beers I ever had, your taste buds must be fuckin' dead by now." 

"Climzak is such a bitch, she gave me another week of detention!"

"Bro, didja hear about the fight down in the tech wing?" Interesting, but not what he'd been entirely looking for. The technology wing was down near the gym, on the shorter route. The same one he'd been warned against.

"A new episode got leaked, but I think I'll wait until it comes out to watch it.."

"Supposedly, his family is totally loaded!"  _There's_ what he needed. He faked dropping a pen out of his pocket, really selling his fumbling to pick it back up. He felt no eyes on him, so he was free to eavesdrop for a little moment longer.

"Did you catch his name though? I bet it's something really stupid to go with his hair."

"I dunno, Tazy or something. He already has two side bitches practically on their knees, dude. Like Mikena-"

"HA, are you still not over that bitch? Dude, go get laid or something, find a rebound." His interest waned with the conversation's stale topic change, finally moving over to his table. Chelsea and Bea would side by side, with Diego across from them and a few other of their friends at the remaining seats. One spot was left open to the direct left of Chelsea, and he silently thanked the others for their consideration. With an unceremonious 'wump', he settled down in his rightful place. Half the table perked up at his arrival.

"CARL, CARL YOU'RE NOT GONNA BELIEVE WHAT I GOTTA TELL YA!" Chell exclaimed, arms flapping her chicken leg around.

"Jeez, could you be any louder?" he snorted. "Did you pass your English quiz with flying colors or something?"

"Well, yes, but that's not important! Bea got to meet the new guy on the block, turns out they share the same biology class. You did hear about him, right?"

"Oh noooo, I know absolutely nothing about the supposedly rich bunny hybrid with pink hair and yellow eyes, never heard of this guy in my life," he snarked, biting into his sandwich with a playful grin.

"Okay good, you and your little data-mining brain did catch on. I'm almost positive he really is rich, I overheard the stationed officer talking with the vice principal about him. He's got a family fortune in his pocket, on top of being some sorta rare type of fella. Pretty sure the schools in this area were fighting to offer the best opportunities, and _somehow_ Saint Hell-ena won."

"That would explain the hype, I guess," he replied, chewing at his food thoughtfully. "Do you think his hair is legit?"

"It is," Diego piped up, drawing their eyes to him. "Rose Hare hybrid, 4% exist in the global population."

"Shit man, he really is the lap of luxury. Why here though? Saint Helena isn't the most prestigious or pretty place on this hillside."

"Dunno. Maybe he's running from something."

"Way to make it creepy, Diego, I don't think he's the kind of wandering serial killer type at like. What, 16? 17? Point is, his family must have quite the careers if they've got so much dosh in their wallet. They probably move  _with_ their jobs."

"Dear, you're getting raw chicken everywhere-"

"I don't give a fat chode--Wait, hang on, isn't that the guy over there?" Chelsea pointed with her chicken leg, and Carlos followed the protruding bone's direction. It was true, he had some girls practically clinging to his sides while other men were engaging with him. Carlos could see him shake with likely another fake laugh, and he was oddly relieved that his eyes had been closed for it.

"He doesssn't look that impressive," one of the others commented. Judging from the slur, he figured it was Diego's snake friend.

"He looks more stiff than anything," Bea noted. "Look at his posture, he hates all those girls crawling over him. Such thirsty thots."

"My gaydar senses are tinglinggg~."

"Chell, that's probably your spider sense more than anything-" Carlos had already tuned their banter out, instead focusing on the conversation far away. It was impossible to hear what they were saying, but he recognized the quarterback he was conversing with. Even at a distance, he could practically hear the sneer in his voice, and he realized their conversation must have been similar to conversing in a different language. A sophisticated upper class guy versus a steroid pumping misogynistic athlete. He wondered just how hard the other was selling it, or if that actually was his kind of crowd. Though he doubted it was, the smile that danced as he talked looked incredibly forced. Though maybe he was just assuming the tense expression was one of discomfort. "Has anyone figured out his name yet?"

"I've got his last name, does that count-"

"Bea, we need his fiiiirst name, the teachers blab last names all the time. Did he mention his name near you, by any chance?"

"Nah, it never got brought up, people just kept asking him family questions."

"Shit. Carlos, what about you?" He turned his attention back to his companions.

"Sorry, I've only heard his last name too. A table I passed said it was something close to Tazy."

"Probably not actually Tazy. Not that it matters, look at 'em over there, conversing with the enemy."

"Chell, dear, he's the new guy, what else is he going to do?"

"Literally anything but that is acceptable. Everyone knows how much of a douchebag Darrel and his cymbal monkeys are." Carlos pulled his awareness away from their playful banter with a violent shiver. A quick glance told him everything he needed; his eyes were back on him, and he was coming this way.

"I don't mean to be rude and interrupt your little lover's spat, but I do believe he's moving to this half of the room."

"Shit, you're joking," Chelsea said, leaning around Carlos to see for herself. Carlos kept his eyes facing forward, looking out the window. It was a nice day outside, with bright sunshine filtering in. Staring at the beam of warm light did nothing to stop the cold seeping into his veins. He felt the spider at his side gently elbow him, muttering quietly, "they've gone separate ways and he managed to peel the girls off." He turned a little, mouth opened to ask a question before she sharply turned towards Beatrice. "So she said to him, 'Harold, I can't do this anymore, I'm in love with Clarissa,' and it was this whole big dramatic thing, and their kids were involved-"

"Chell, I love you but what in the absolute heck are you talking about-" 

"Beatrice Khama, wasn't it?" Carlos didn't miss how Chelsea and Bea stiffened, though oddly enough Diego seemed lax. Biting the bullet, he finally looked up to the hybrid, and for once, his eyes weren't glued to him.

"Uh. Yes! That would be me, why do you ask?"

"I couldn't help but notice you left this behind in biology, and I assumed if I didn't return it, it'd be very unlikely you see it again," 'Tazy' explained, and he slid something Carlos recognized as Bea's signature family charm. He hadn't even realized it wasn't clipped into her feathered hair anymore.

"Ah, thank you! I would have been distraught if I realized this was gone!" She gentled picked it up and started fusing with her feathers to clip it back into place. "Maybe I should get it checked out, normally it's rare for it to slip out-"

"Oh no, the pleasure was all mine," he smiled, and it felt more genuine than what he'd seen with the Darrel.

"Hey, you could stick around and just hang out if you want," Chell popped up, though Carlos could tell her offer had ulterior motives. She was defensive of their little slice of life, and it took quite some time for her to trust someone enough to consider adding them to the posse. They shared a quick glance that confirmed his suspicions.

"I'd love to, but I should probably get back to class. Wouldn't want to miss too much on my first day."

"Wait, then why were you down here? This isn't your lunch period?" In the same motion from earlier, he flicked out another hall pass, though this time it wasn't merely a paper slip given out by hall monitors.

"My English teacher asked me to run a quick errand for her, and I figured there was no better time to take care of my own business," he explained, and Carlos had to grip his leg underneath the table to keep from flinched when those flaxen eyes passed over him briefly. "Though I'm sure nobody would have minded without the pass either."

"I see. You certainly got cozy with the teachers fast, huh?"

"Comes with the family name. I'm not surprised they trust me this much already." He leaned back up and straightened out his uniform's shirt. 'Well, I should be heading back, wish I could stay longer."

"Wait!" Carlos wasn't even sure why he spoke up, but once him and his tables' eyes were on him, his brain short circuited. What was it about the deep tone of gold to the hare's eyes that seemed to tie his tongue up instantly?

"..Yes? You were saying, Demiraz?" He mentally slapped himself out of his stupor, and quickly pulled a topic from the tip of his tongue.

"I-I was wondering what you name was, so I could thank you properly?" he squeaked, a lump lodged in his throat. The upperclassman blinked before smiling the most real grin he'd seen from him since they'd met in algebra.

"Tuzi. Tuzi Treehelm. And no need to thank me for the hall pass, it was only fair of me to offer compensation." Carlos felt the girls to his side looking at him intensely, and he almost wondered if he'd turn to see a hole burnt into his hoodie.

"W-Well. Thank you anyways." Tuzi gave him a slight bow before turning away from the table and walking back towards the exit. He glanced over his shoulder briefly, and Carlos didn't miss the coy smirk he gave him. The hybrid had left him to the wolves, and Chell was already shaking him and spitting out a million questions. Lunch was going to feel longer than usual.


	3. Collection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first POV swap in chapter 3, dam. shouldn't be hard to figure out who the story's following this time, and this'll offer a good sneak peak into Tuzi's head >;3c

_He's rather cute when he's flustered._

Having a rich family wasn't something he often flaunted, but it certainly offered him various benefits. Staff were more willing to be lenient with him, and this was only pushed further when he displayed good manners and persistence in studies. His near photographic memory proved advantageous with every subject. It was a shame he'd arrived past physical education; it would have been highly amusing to watch his fellow classmates get blown away by how much strength his lithe body housed.

Tuzi had his genetics to thank for that. The Rose Hare was a genetic offshoot of the jackrabbit, which often times could run up to 45 mph. Of course, being a hybrid slowed him down considerable, his maximum speed clocked at 35 mph. Several other hybrids easily could outdo him, but he had a faster turn radius than most of them. He could spend hours debating the various perks he had over different hybrids, but in the end, it was all inconsequential information he could recant at his leisure. A parlor trick at best. 

The football player, Darrel Gilrold. Jackal hybrid, at least 150 pounds and a fellow junior. 5 foot 10, since he had to glance upwards to look him in the eyes. Even if he was a quarterback, he would struggle for a few minutes before ultimately coming out of a skirmish victorious. He had two things Darrel didn't; the experience, and the thrill seeking of a fight.

The semantics of this hybrid, while important to note for a later date, was not the focus of his attention. The human girl, Mikena Blouse, had been the one to 'introduce' them. He'd spotted the girl fawning over him, as most people did upon his arrival, and of course assumed he'd been trying to steal his girl. It'd been a difficult feat to figure out which scent on her belonged to her supposed lover, but he wasn't surprised at the quarterback's defensive reaction. It took only a few minutes of interaction to deduce she was the promiscuous type. A gold digger, if he was going to put it bluntly. She'd flirted with him the first chance she had. It'd been almost gag worthy, but if not for her, he'd of never been acquainted with Darrel.

He'd cleared up the misunderstanding swiftly, avoiding confrontation. He could have easily dispatched him, but he wasn't in the mood to disobey his mother's request day one. She'd gently begged him not to do anything to kick up a fuss, since they'd only just moved into the area, and he'd sworn on his life he'd listen. For now. He couldn't promise her anything in the future, and he was even more certain of that now that he'd met Darrel.

Tuzi could smell _**his**_ scent on his varsity jacket. It was stale, perhaps a week old and easily masked by the pheromones of Mikena's heat, but it was undeniable. No amount of cologne covered the smell of fear that drifted from him. It took the sculpted discipline he'd ingrained to keep his facade of friendly stranger up. He couldn't name what it was about the boy, Carlos, but it entranced him easily. The previous wavelength of grey that flowed passively now had a steady heartbeat of green boiling the waters, blue eyes burned into his memory.

He'd never felt the primal need to protect anyone but his family. His father's fierce desire had bled into him, but he'd never felt the connection outside of his own blood.

Maybe it was the sense of terror and caution he picked off the younger. He shuffled through the halls with a damaged sense of wonder, like he suspected someone would rush from the crowd and assault him. Tuzi recognized the signs of anxiety, confirmed by how his body had seized up when they first spoke. He shivered when he felt his eyes even graze over him, and he avoiding eye contact as much as possible, with  _everyone._  Everyone save for his friends. He understood why, the spidertaur had bristled when she spotted him approaching, in the same way a spider lashes out to protect its den when threatened. Carlos in a way was her den. The dingo hybrid was more relaxed, and he could already tell they detected a predator in one another for the brief moment they'd locked eyes. Of course, Tuzi would be no threat to him if he was not one in return. The bird was mated to the spider, that much was obvious, and ultimately had just been a ploy to get closer to Carlos. Though her hospitality inspired confidence. The boy was in good hands.

Wasn't quite enough for him, though. But he was patient.

He hadn't missed much in English, his classwork easily made up. He was sorely disappointed to find he shared no other classes with Demiraz besides algebra. Though it would only take a quick stop in the office to change that, it was too soon. He didn't want to unnerve him further, or worse, scare him off entirely. Mikena shared robotics with him, not that she applied any effort to it. Bethany was stuck doing all of her work. Of course, he only had half the day to gauge how many trends in classmates he found. For all he knew, he did share something else with Carlos, but he'd missed it.

_No matter, I'll figure out the rest of his schedule by other means._

* * *

It was by pure luck that he'd spotted him on the way out of the building, encircled by his companions again. The dingo held up the back, hands in his pockets as he stalked behind his group. The bird spearheaded their exit, followed closely by the tarantula and the apple of his eye. Carlos had his yellow headphones around his neck, and he spotted sheet music resting over his folders. So he was a music student, good to know. Tuzi made sure to look the other way before one of them could glance around and see him, merely keep his head trained forward. It wouldn't be difficult to disguise his intentions at this distance. He felt the prickle of eyes on his shoulder before the call sounded.

"Hey, Treehelm!" It took another moment of self restraint to keep himself from visibly groan. He composed himself before turning to his right, spying the yellow Mustang across the parking lot. Mikena was snuggled up Darrel who was leaning around his windshield. Of course he was the type to invest in roofless cars. "Wanna hitch a ride, we're on our way to par-taaaaay!" the jock hooted, and his teammates whooped and yipped behind him.

"I'll pass," he called, "perhaps I'll catch you next time?" He could tell Carlos' group was already turning their nose up at the prospect of him considering the other's offer. Lucky for them, he'd only ever take the invitation if it provided him with an advantage.

"Your loss, pinkhead!" he cackled, his tires screeching as he circled and sped out of the lot, screaming with his friends in the same way the rubber had. Tuzi sighed a breath of relief, looking over his shoulder at the only other four to have witnessed the interaction. Carlos had quickly looked away, avoiding his eyes again. He offered them a light wave, snorting when he watched Chelsea literally turn her nose up.

"You needn't worry, I don't plan on going to a crack house of madness," he reassured them, pleased to see Carlos gently wobble with a giggle. "I'm not the type to drink and fuck."

"Didn't take you to be the vulgar mouthed one, Treehelm," Chelsea called back, and her group returned to their descent down the stairs.

"There's more surprises to me than a few curses." He too returned to his exit, giving one more wave as he started for the parking lot. "Perhaps i could treat the lot of you to them at some point?"

"Answer unclear, ask later, richie pants!" It wasn't a definite no. A good sign; if he appeared harmless to Carlos' bodyguards, he could easily assimilate himself into their clique. Thus staying closer to the boy. He briefly mulled over how it probably would become more difficult to stay neutral with the other classes of people, but nothing he couldn't handle. He'd done it many times before, and he'd do it again. But for now, he had more important matters to attend to.

_How convenient of them,_ he mused,  _they provide a link to their website on the front of the agenda. Surely the teachers have their own sub pages. Finding out Demiraz's routine should be a piece of cake._


	4. Family Intervention (Or Lack Thereof)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back to Carlos for this one, since he is the main focus after all. dw, there'll be more of Tuzi's perspective >;3 but first, time to meet the family! there's also a lot of food talk in this, so i apologize if i make anyone hungry

The walk home had been nothing special, though Chelsea had been very insistent on her discussion of Tuzi. Carlos could only manage sluggish nods in his drowsiness, and he was happy to make it home. He'd said his goodbyes before dashing up the porch and into the family abode.

His family was fairly middle class, with their own house and 2 cars. Meals consisted of either takeout or premade dinners prepped the day before. Entertainment ranged from books, television, or consoles to the standard Ol' Reliable that was the internet. He'd spend hours researching topics, with no particular stopping point in mind. It was how he knew so much about the people around him, at least in the genetics fashion. Nearly every animal had a hybrid counterpart, thanks to splintering branches in evolution. It was highly fascinating, and in a way, he almost yearned to be something more than a simple human. Hybrids were more attuned to their respective animals, some to the point where they had a primal understanding of their communications. The people around him were simply  _amazing,_ and he had some form of respect even for those he hated because of the scientific feat their DNA was capable of.

He unceremoniously dropped his keys into the shallow vase to the side of the front door, hanging up his school bag on its respective hook. It only took a short amount of wandering for him to realize he wasn't home alone. His sister had left some dishes in the sink, evidence that she'd been fueling her pancake addiction. He found her lazing about with the spoils of her oven top conquest, watching some obscure cartoon Carlos wasn't particularly interested in. Her old job had recently gotten canned, so now she was stuck waiting for returned calls in the mean time. At least he could count on her help with making some real food, if the craving ever were to arise.

"Hey sis, gettin' fat off more pancakes, I see," he said, resting his elbows on the back of the couch.

"Up yours, short stack," she mumbled through chewed fluff. "Mum 'nd dad aren't gonna be home 'til late again, you know the drill."

"Yeah, yeah, can't really care about house rules when I'm never the one to break them."

"You say this now," she started, pointing at him with her fork in an accusing manner, "but I'm waiting for the day you have a friend over and I'll have to cover your ass."

"You mean like the  _countless_ occasions I do that for you, free of charge?"

"..You make a point, but also, consider: fuck you." Carlos snickered as he pushed himself away from the furniture, blowing a raspberry as he started upstairs towards his room. The whole house's interior had an almost rustic feeling about it, a day and night comparison once he'd stepped into his room. Knick-knacks and photos were scattered over every surface, his laptop resting on his desk and his swivel chair tilted towards the entrance like it was expectant.

"I'm home," he declared to the empty room, striding over to the desk that had been his safe corner for years. The stickers he'd decorated his computer with were peeling with age, and he promised to find another cheap set to adorn it with. His homework had been finished during his study hall, so he had the whole day leading up to dinner to goof off. He wasn't even sure what he'd do with his time, but he knew whatever it lead to, he wouldn't mind.

* * *

He could now safely say Tuzi hadn't left his mind. After he'd set up his playlist and found a good starting topic, it had gradually pulled him to the sparse topic of Rose Hares. Diego hadn't been lying, they were a rare sight in the entire world's population. Despite this, they had a distinct culture that involved fierce loyalty and an emphasis on elegance. Which made sense for Tuzi, when he talked stiffly in a less formal setting. Carlos almost wondered how he would talk if it was just them alone, but the idea of being one on one with those haunting eyes made him shudder. He felt guilty about how unsettled he felt around the hybrid, especially after he'd made sure they knew he had no intentions of heading to Darrel's party. That at least brought some comfort; he'd been putting up a friendly front, but not with his group. Maybe he was his kind of person. Though the idea of having any sort of fancy, high class friend nearly made him faint. It was the kind of fantasy he'd have after getting roughed up and freshly bruised, where he'd gleefully entertain the fantasy of  _him_ being popular and surrounded by gaggles of people. Of course, it usually lost its charm when he remembered how most of Darrel's friends weren't actually friends, merely fake personalities that became his yes-men to get ahead in the social hierarchy.

_How depressing,_ he sniffed, clicking for the next page of his current article. So far, the news outlet he'd stumbled upon was merely recapping what he already knew, but it was offering so interesting discoveries and facts regarding the genetic makeup of the Rose Hare. In most cases, it took the pairing of a bunny hybrid and some sort of predator animal to yield the offspring, but there was the off chance that a bunny hybrid and human could do the same thing. The percentage chance was just much more slim. Carlos figured he'd have to ask around about his parents when he got the chance. Besides the breeding information, the article talked about the various health issues that could come up with the Rose Hare child. It wasn't uncommon for them to die only a few months after birth (Carlos gently mourned for the parents' sake), but those that made it out of adolescence often showed evidence of mental ticks that chemical imbalances caused. It was usually something small, like a nervous habit akin to nail biting or foot tapping, and at worst, something like ADHD or OCD. Carlos quirked a brow, trying to think of any signs he might have picked up from Tuzi. Nothing really came to mind. Maybe he'd been blessed with no complications?-

"Hey, short stack, get your tiny ass down here and help me get dinner ready!"

"Coming!" he called back, bookmarking the article stub for later and pausing his music. He almost forgotten to take his headphones off, thankful he hadn't done it twice in one week. His headphones took enough abuse already. He yawned widely as he descended the stairs and shuffled to the kitchen. His sister had her hair done up in a messy bun, crop top barely clinging to her shoulders. "You are so gonna burn your stomach in that shirt, dude."

"When I do, I'll make sure to tell you, word for word, to chew on my left butt cheek, shortie," she replied, prodding at the vegetables in the frying pan. "Do me a favor, see if you can find better bread than the Italian, it's as hard as a rock. One of us needs to go out shopping since they always wait until we're stuck eating stale corn flakes."

"I can bug Bea's family to give us a ride, her mom's nice," he said, digging around in the freezer for an acceptable bread loaf. "Or Diego, I think he lives near a store."

"Isn't Diego the dirty blond guy, with the ears and legs?"

"Yeah, he's the dingo, why?"

"He's cute, invite him over more often~."

"Eeewwwww, sis, that's one of my best friends, you perv!" He grabbed one of the knives lodged in the chopping block and started slicing rye loaf he'd uncovered, sticking out his tongue in mock disgust.

"What, I'm not allowed to check out your friend's ass?"

"Look at Chelsea's ass."

"eUGH, no way man, spider ass isn't my thing. Besides, aren't you the one who said spiders have sex weird?"

"I mean male ones do, but Chell's also a  _hybrid_ and they don't do the dirty the same way an actual tarantula does," he explained, slipping the bread pieces into the toaster and returning to his search in the fridge. "What else do I need to grab anyways?"

"See if we have any chicken breasts left, I could put those in the oven while the veggies roast."

"Well we need more food than that too, y'know- We should invest in some ground beef, make some burgers we can eat later."

"And English muffins, make some breakfast sandwiches for the mornings. Not that they'd probably notice or appreciate it, they probably run on coffee and cheap donuts from work." After nudging the assorted vegetables around a little longer, she poured them into a bowl she had set aside. His sister set the pan bake down on the oven top, snatching up the store bought tomato sauce and pouring it into the pan. "We still have noodles, right?"

"Yeah, I'm staring at a giant container of them."

"Mkay good, grab a pot and pour it out of the tupperware, we probably only need like half of the leftovers. Microwave it afterwards, it'll save some time."

"You should totally add parsley into the sauce," he piped up, "it's good for the immune system and heart."

"You're a living trivia fact machine, dude," she snorted, but she accepted the stalks he'd waved at her. "Speaking of facts, the hell were you reading up on this time, you were quiet as a mouse up there."

"Oh, uh, Rose Hare hybrids mostly?" he answered, surprised when she let out a short cackle.

"That reminds me, shortie!" she fixed him with a playful squint, waving the spatula in his direction. "What's this i heard about a new kid in school?"

"How'd you even know about that?" he asked, tending to the limp noodles and setting down he defrosted chicken breasts on the counter.

"You know I still have some friends in there, they were blowing me up in group chat with pictures of this guy. Is he actually rich or were they just listening to gossip gain?"

"I think so, his family just moved here, but Chell overheard the faculty talking about his family fortune. He's loaded."

"How fancy. What, did the principal sell his soul to get them here?" his sister snorted, pulling the pan off the stove and turning it off, setting up the chicken on the baking sheet she prepared.

"The districts fought to look the best, so probably. I dunno, he's pretty nice, I guess."

"Ohohoh, so you actually met the guy?" She fixed him with another curious expression as she pushed the pan into the oven.

"Yeah, we share algebra. He wanted me to show him the way to biology, and even gave me a hall pass so I wouldn't be late," he recanted, still a little miffed at the whole ordeal.

"Where'd he even get one of those?"

"Dunno, he said he came in late and a hall monitor gave him an extra on accident. He forged her signature perfectly, coach didn't even spare it a glance."

"Sound like someone has favoritism."

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" he asked, leaning against the counter.

"You just met the guy and he's already doing seedy shit for your ass. What, did he butter up the teachers too?"

"..Yeah, actually, his English teacher let him deliver something or other and he came down to my lunch period to give Bea her charm back."

"HA, he totally sounds like he could be in the mafia. Does he have like a code name too, like fuckinnnn' Sharp Shooter?"

"No? His name's Tuzi Treehelm."

"He tell you that himself, or did you just figure that out from the gossiping divas?"

"He told me his first name and practically everyone knew his last name within the first hour." Carlos massaged the back of his neck, eyeing the bubbling Progresso in the cooling pan.

"You better watch yourself, lil man, qotally sounds like you're the OA of some kinda bad boy."

"The heck is an OA?"

"Object of affection, duh. Why else would he bail your ass out?" His sister poured some of the steaming sauce over the vegetables, mixing it around meticulously as she talked.

"I don't know, maybe because he's nice? He talked to some of the jocks, but he definitely didn't look happy about it. Darrel offered to take him to one of his parties and he called it a crack house of madness when he talked to Chell."

"Well yeah," she started, "he sounds like a nammy pammy sophisticated type, there's no way he'd enjoy some brutish guy like Darrel. How's that jackass been lately, by the way? I don't need to crack his ass again, do I?"

"No, I haven't been banged up by his little gang in like a week."

"Good, if I find out he's pulling more shit, I'm gonna make sure his mom gives him the biggest ass whooping in the history of mothers."

"That's not really necessary-"

They both jumped when they head the roar of the car sliding into the driveway, and Carlos sighed lowly. Their parents were home. The siblings gave a curt nod to each other before he returned to preparing the noodles. They had an unspoken agreement regarding their parents' return; don't be loud, don't be overly friendly or peppy. Work often times left them both grouchy or sensitive to the slightest thing out of place, and it often was better to just let them stalk into their respective corners before they could go back to quietly conversing. His sister had more confidence than he did, now that she was out of school. She had no obligations to stay in the house, and could easily pack her things and find somewhere else. Nothing tied her to this home, besides Carlos. She'd promised him she wouldn't leave until he was free of Saint Helena, then she'd take him with her, away from the working stiff household grain he probably would be slammed into. The only reason his sister had escaped the loop was she'd carefully crafted a sensible argument for staying home all the time; she was the cook, she cleaned up the house every other day, grabbed the mail and took care of sorting it. Any household chore two working parents didn't have the energy to do when they returned home. Though they both knew the moment Carlos graduated, they'd try to get him to work towards college, or immediately thrust resumes onto him. They held high standards for their children, the kind of standard that was physically draining to reach.

His sister had started quietly humming when the couple stalked in, their father running a hand through his hair. The sound of clicking heels signaled their mother had walked past, likely to change into something more comfortable than a pencil skirt and dress clothes.

"Long day?" she asked, her father grunting affirmation as he tugged off his tie.

"Rough day. CEO was ready to rip us all a new one."

"Sounds crappy. Dinner'll be done in a few more minutes."

"Good, thank you, honey," he blankly answered, shuffling off in the direction of their bedroom. Carlos waited until he heard the door scrap shut before he turned back towards his elder sibling.

"Claire, I'm pretty sure he's just a pile of sagging bones at this point. If you weren't making meals, pretty sure he'd literally be a walking corpse."

"Did you see mom? Her hair's a total mess. They really need less stressful jobs, their souls are getting sucked out through one of those super bendy straws you get with a kid's meal."

"Maybe their CEO is just a giant tapeworm with a bendy straw in its mouth," he joked, portioning out the noodles and scooping heaping spoonfuls of sauce and veggies into the bowls.

"You kid, but I could totally make that a convincing conspiracy theory. I'd get the whole group chat to spread that rumor, a riot would start. We would spark a revolution."

"You'd also get them fired," he pointed out, grabbing a fork. "Should I deliver their dinner?"

"Nah, I'll do it. You go retreat behind enemy lines, young marine."

"Sir, yes, sir," he laughed, taking his food with him as he crept back upstairs to his room. He supposed life at hoe could have been worse, but he still had a bleeding craving for some semblance of family again. He would often recall when him and Claire were younger, and their parents didn't have such long hours. He sighed dreamily as he crunched on his broccoli, shaking his heads and slipping his headphones back on. He'd finish the article later, he had a date with a video about ocean biology and ecosystems.


	5. Chilling Invitations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's your slice of life, now onto some good ol fashion bondage!
> 
> not that kind you lil shits, its not smutty yet

Carlos loved music enough he was willing to apply himself to a majority of the music wing's offered courses. He was more than happy to take part in marching band, though it often became an exhausting hobby once Spirit Week rolled around.

It wasn't unbearable until Friday rolled around. Friday was the day that the entire student body was gathered into the gym, and it also happened to coincide with one of the bigger football games. All in all, the end of Spirit Week meant a big bash was going to be held at the end of the school day. After the chorus students sang and the cheerleaders did their routine, the band would come in and preform while teachers and the student council did games in honor of their grade. Whichever grade won the most activities got to put a real dent in the school's budget via breakfast the following Monday. Carlos was fairly indifferent, choosing to focus on the thrum of genuine excitement and  _life_ in the room. But of course, he had a whole school day to get through first. He was just happy that classes were shorter.

He could list off what had happened in the first half of his day in a drawn out breath. Music theory gave him the challenge of pairing lyrics with another student's jingle, earth science had a quiz involving the identification of stars, he continued on his essay regarding the ethics of lower wages for hybrids who were naturally stronger than the majority of workers, and he finished his landscape sketch in drawing. Nothing out of the ordinary, just with less time to sit through.

Algebra was where things got more interesting. His poor algebra teacher knew it was useless to try and convince the class to settle down, so instead he just put on a movie in the background and let the class quietly chatter. They were allowed to change seats (with several exceptions, some of them just couldn't be near each other without descending into screaming), so Tuzi had moved closer to Carlos. Nobody thought anything of it, having been caught up in their conversations.

"You seem a little antsy, Demiraz, why the nervous energy?" Carlos looked up from his half finished sheet music, focusing on Tuzi's ears instead of his eyes.

"Oh, uh. After lunch, I have to head down to the band room, to get ready for the pep rally."

"Oh? A student of music, hm."

"Y-Yeah, it's mostly just something to get me out of the house, eheh. It can be fun, but pep rallies usually are quite draining. And concerts are even more so."

"If it's stressful, perhaps you should opt out of them?"

"Ahh, I don't want to kick up a fuss about it, they happen so little I'm not willing to lie or just leave band altogether," he explained sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with hot embarrassment. Nearly any time they talked, Tuzi would get concerned about something involving him. It made his constant laser focusing a little less eerie; he'd pick up on little visible mannerisms that normally Carlos would be spotting on other people. They were kindred spirits when it came to observation.

"In general, the school clubs have exceedingly high expectations and quotas. Time off for their members would reduce the strain their activities yield."

"T-Tuzi, please, there's much bigger issues than post performance fatigue-" He'd figured out that Tuzi seemed to light up when he used more complicated language, so he'd started speaking on the same level as him. It'd at least advancing whatever form of friendship they had.

"The band has a crucial part in the charm to pep rally, yes? I would think that if the goal of its endeavor was to inspire enthusiasm, they'd want peak performance."

"..Yeah, you got me there- I dunno, maybe it's something the student government should take care of."

"I could probably easily annex myself a position."

"Tuzi, no-" he sputtered, gently covering his mouth to hide his light smile. He had to admit, when he was passionate about something, he was just as much persistent. It felt nice to be worried about, even if indirectly. He would have fussed over the attention further if not for the bell's sudden racket, the whole classroom scrambling to pick up their things on reflex. Tuzi stood up smoothly and slung his bag over his shoulder, patiently waiting while Carlos crammed his papers back into his folders. "Ah, you don't have to wait for me, I don't want you to be late and I doubt you have any more-"

"Hall passes? I do, but I doubt I'd have to use one. Besides, I'd rather assure myself that you aren't trampled by the hoards of people on your way out."

"I'm not going to die Mufasa style, I don't even think we have wildebeest hybrids in this school. A-Anyways, do you just have an endless supply of those things?" he asked, Tuzi following behind him.

"Endless would imply there's no finite amount. It's not difficult to acquire extras, but I don't have enough for it to be considered absurd."

"I see," he mumbled. Carlos had to wave of his sister's sarcastic voice, remembering how she called him a bad boy, or a member of the mafia. It was a silly notion, he was just the type of person to come prepared. Plus there wasn't enough crime in this area for there to _be_ a mafia. "I gotta get to gym, I'll probably see you at the pep rally?"

"Of course," the hare replied, before catching Carlos' arm in a quick grasp. Carlos was quite surprised at how firm his hold was, but he looked back to his ears with a confused expression. "Hey. Look at me?" He softly gulped before bringing his eyes down to meet Tuzi's, shoving down the impulse to shiver. "Take care of yourself, alright? Wouldn't want to injure yourself before your performance."

"Yeah, I get you," he answered, swallowing down his voice crack. His golden eyes almost glimmered in the school's lighting, with more intensity than he thought was possible. "Y-You should get to biology before you're marked late."

"I'll be fine. Take care, Demiraz."

"You too." He waited until he saw the vibrant pink of his hair disappear behind the corner to let out a relieved sigh. He was gradually growing used to the icy cold that would seep into his blood when they spoke, but it was going to take a little more time than a week to build up an immunity to his eyes. He snapped out of his stupor and continued on his way. He had hell to get through before he could eat.

* * *

Whatever God that was out there must have decided today was the day he'd have it easy. Nobody roughed him up in gym, with everyone too busy griping about their pieces in pep rally or just excitedly chattering about the lack of work. Carlos was thankful for the break, and he could walk out from the locker room at his leisure. He half expected for Tuzi to pop up out of nowhere while he walked through the halls, but it never happened. Lunch was a rush of shoveling food into his mouth, replenishing his energy for the long session he'd be having with his clarinet. He gave his friends a quick goodbye before making his way towards the band room. It was  _then_  that Tuzi decided to surprise him, coming up from his side soundlessly when he passed a turn.

"Do you always walk like your time is short?"

"g AHK, TUZI-- Jesus, where did you come from?!" he exclaimed, grasping his chest with a shaky sigh. He was almost certain he'd experienced what it felt like to have a heart attack.

"I apologize, I assumed you had heard me approaching from the other hall. It would appear that the pep rally's preparations needed extra hands, and my class was more willing to offer help than continuing work."

"Oh. Well, that's nice- Are you the only one coming down to help with marching band, or?"

"Some of the others went ahead of me. They were quite eager."

"I feel like you just have incredible luck when it comes into bumping into me."

"Rabbit feet are considered to be good luck charms, yes. Though I never quite understood where the luck in severing off an animal's limb came from."

"U-Um. It probably was more so based on faith than the actual foot?" He pushed open the door, and was greeted with the lovely noise of his fellow band members tending to their instruments and helping each other fix their uniforms. The school's official colors were various shades of grey (how depressing, Carlos had mussed upon the discovery), but around this time, their usual colors were replaced with rich reds and yellows, after their school mascot, the Chimera. Almost like turning on the lights of a dark room to discover a colorful tapestry that you'd thought was just an ordinary curtain.

"So what instrument do you major in, Demiraz?"

"You say it like it's another course meant to provide college credits," he laughed nervously, walking around the various people to his locker. "Clarinet, I used to play the flute, though."

"You know, both instruments often symbolized the voice of gods. In Egypt, it was suspected that Isis' motherly tone could be heard in the notes."

"That's. A little strange, but often times cultural symbolism is, eheh. I should get ready, I need to change-"

"It would probably be best to do so in the bathroom, yes?"

"Yeah, I should have gotten here sooner, there's too many people in here." Carlos scooped up the bag holding his uniform, moving to press the door open with his side before Tuzi beat him to it, bowing a little and shooing him out with a hand on his back. "Tuzi, I could've done it myself-"

"Nonsense, your arms were full. What size is your uniform?"

"Oh, uh. Small, I'm kinda tiny. Why do you ask?"

"Conversation piece. Are you often the type to allow others to carry conversation?"

"Ah, y-yeah, I'm not used to being the center of attention for. Anything, really. Usually get nervous or worried I'll make a fool of myself."

"How intriguing that you would join something like band, despite your worries."

"Well, yeah, there's more important instruments than the clarinet and there's a lot of us," Carlos reasoned, waiting for Tuzi to push the door open and walking into the men's room.

"Regardless, it shows good character that you pursued your love for music despite your anxiety."

"Ah, thank you? I try not to let things get to me." His glasses and hair did nothing to hide the red tinge to his cheeks, so he quickly ducked into one of the stalls.

"Implying some things might still bother you?"

"Wha- Oh. Well, yeah, I guess so. It's inevitable that something will rub me the wrong way, it's high school," Carlos retorted, pulling his hoodie off and draping it over the stall door. He leaned against the wall as he continued changing and listening to Tuzi. "Everyone's humor is offensive, or they find amusement in terrible stuff."

"It's inevitable that something will, or some _one_ will, you mean?" The underclassman blinked, staring at the door that blocked direct eye contact with the hybrid. The conversation was getting beyond a weird point at this rate.

"I guess both would be accurate." A change in topic was needed quickly, before it escalated to an uncomfortable point. "Hey, uh, what time is it out there?"

"12:31. What time are you meant to be ready?"

"We gotta be outside of the gym by 12:45, I should hurry-"

"Why the rush? You aren't the only clarinet player participating, yes?"

"Well yeah, there's me and a couple others, so about 3 of us total. Why do you ask?" He had to hop a little to shimmy into his uniform pants, smoothing down the wrinkled fabric. Red and yellow weren't usually colors he looked good in, but he supposed it was an improvement from the droll shades of tinged grey.

"How strict are they about attending this event?"

"Not terribly? It's not the biggest deal if you miss one, it's more of an issue if suddenly a lot of instruments are missing."

"So it wouldn't be difficult to skip one, if the opportunity were to arise?"

"Tuzi!" Carlos squeaked indignantly, "are you suggesting I just ditch the whole thing?"

"You were bouncing nervously in algebra, and in general, your usual quick strides were clipped down to an anxious shuffle."

"It's a very important piece of Pride Week, of course I'm a little uneasy, but I don't think it's very good if I were to skip out on--"

"You deserve the rest. With the progression of the week, you've gained dark circles under your eyes."

"...Have I?" he asked, one hand instinctively going to rub at his face. He didn't  _think_ he was under any more duress, but maybe he really was more jittery than usual. It wasn't unheard of for him to be blind to the affects of stress, and it often took Chelsea or one of the others slapping some sense into him for him to give himself some time to tend to himself.

"They won't give you a lot of grief if you're gone for one day, the excitement of it would be far too distracting. Plus I already seem to have enough influence I could divert the attention away from you."

"I mean I guess- Hey, wait, why are you trying to convince me to skip in the first place?" he inquired, zipping up his uniform and adjusting the collar.

"Well, I was going to wait until I'd gotten you to agree to give yourself an early exit, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to say it now that you ask." Carlos quirked a brow in the direction of Tuzi's monotone chatter. "I was going to inquire if you'd be willing to let me accompany you." That made him freeze in place. This was entirely new territory, the phrasing ringing warning bells and sirens in the back of his head.

"What do you mean by accompany?"

"Those were the terms I would let you set. I'm not picky. Though perhaps it might be easier to relax in the comfort of either of our abodes."

"A-Ah, my parents don't like people over at my house much.." So it was just an invitation to hang out. He had to grasp onto the tiled wall to keep from audibly sighing his relief. Now he just felt ridiculous for his worry.

"Mine are quite lenient. My mother probably would be delighted to meet someone like you," Tuzi said, and Carlos didn't miss the fluctuation of contentment to his usual even voice.

"Wait, okay, let me process this," he breathed, plucking his hoodie off the door to cram it into the uniform's former bag before swinging the stall open. "You're trying to get me to skip pep rally, so I can come to your _house?_ "

"I have nothing against other locations of choice, but I imagine it sounds like the chance of a lifetime to visit a 'rich household' type, as everyone crows on about." Carlos kept his eyes trained on Tuzi's bangs, just barely out of eye contact, but he could still see the tentative look to his cadmium iris'. He didn't quite feel the typical cold chill, his mind being more occupied with the given proposition. He wasn't wrong; this sounded like the kind of chance movie plots are made from. And it was a damn tempting offer.

"..I. I'm sorry, I don't have it in me to be the kind of kid to clock out early from school, let alone a pep rally." His morals wobbled above the devil on his shoulder. "And I'd have to make up an excuse to my parents- I-I really appreciate the offer, though! I've never had an invitation from anyone besides close friends," he admitted, pulling his gaze to stare at the wall in front of him. He felt the lightest twinge of guilt for turning the other down. This did seem out of character for someone so high class, and yet again, his sister's teasing words came to mind.

"It's fine, I understand how it might seem rather abrupt. Consider it a postponed possibility, however?"

"Y-Yes, yes of course." He looked to the clock positioned above the door. "Ack! Okay, I really gotta move, I'll see you after pep rally maybe?"

"I'll look for you, but don't worry yourself into a knot about making sure we meet again," Tuzi replied, stepping aside so the other could dash by him with another quick apology. During his rush down to the gym doors, Carlos thought over the logistics of finding himself in Tuzi's home. Images of regal corridors and rolls of rich carpet came to mind, but he thought more about the quiet peace he might find on an expensive bed, with silken sheets and the aroma of roses everywhere. He skid to a stop next to his fellow band mates, thanking the toucan hybrid in charge of transferring the heavier instruments for grabbing his clarinet case in his absence. While he made a few more minor adjustments to his instrument, he chewed at his lip in contemplation. It probably wouldn't be difficult to say a small white lie, something about staying after for a study session. Bea and Chell would probably cover him no problem, maybe with a few questions the next day.

 _I'll ask Tuzi if he has a ride, I'm not sure how far his house is from here,_ he mused. He fluffed out his hair with a bewildered sigh. He seriously,  _actually_ was considering Tuzi's invitation. He was weighing the options that would eventually lead him to either go home feeling disappointed, or to Tuzi's home.

He just hoped it wasn't so sudden to change his mind an hour or so after turning him down.


	6. Rabbit Hollow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now this is the point where we see some actual trust getting built! aka theyre both pining little shits and Carlos is the epitome of an innocent boy falling deeper into the rabbit hole  
> its another dialogue heavy one cuz yknow, bonding, but i can assure you its very much worth it to read through the conversations

"This is such a stupid idea oh my fucking god Carlos why are you like this-"

Normally he wasn't the type to talk aloud unless he was just so focused his thoughts came tumbling out. But this was one of those times where it felt appropriate to verbally call himself out.

Carlos was standing in a different bathroom, and now that he was face to face with his reflection, he could see Tuzi hadn't been lying about the bags under his eyes. He looked like a complete wreck. He wondered if it was because of the usual exhaustion an hour of preforming could cause, or if it'd been the progression of the week on its own that did him in. He plucked his classes off and set them on the sink's rim, running some cold water from the faucet and splashing himself in the face.

It was an insane idea to begin with, and he was already mentally backpedaling. It had to be a jest, another cruel prank the countless denizens of Saint Helena had inflicted on him. And yet.

And yet.

He gently washed his glasses off, practically gnawing his lip off while he swayed himself. Pep rally was over, so the offer looked slightly less glamorous.  _Slightly._ If Tuzi really did have his health in mind, it probably would change nothing. And he'd said while his home would likely offer the greatest chance of relaxing, it wasn't the sole option. If he really wanted to, he could ask to go somewhere else. Not that he had the guts to be picky about the location when faced with a seemingly divine offer. Some god had to have been blessing him to even hear the words from the hybrid's mouth. This sort of thing  _ **never**_ happened to people like him.

He dried his glasses off and replaced them on his face, staring himself in his bright blue eyes. He'd been told in his longer years that he had the seas encapsulated in his eyes, and if that statement held any truth in his adolescence, then his eyes were a troubled torrent of confusion. He sagged against the sinks, running his fingers through his hair. He had to decide, but he was  _so damn torn up about it!_

An idea came to mind, and he quickly retrieved his phone out from his hoodie's pocket. He couldn't be bothered to change again, so he'd slipped his comfort clothing back on and called it a day. He chewed his lip for another moment, an anxious breath pushing out of his lungs.  _Fuck it. I have nothing to lose._

-[Hey, guys? I'm having a bit of a crisis here, help.]  
[who the fuck hurt my baby]  
-[Chell, are you the only one around rn?]  
[diego's taking a leak before we go n bae's next to me, where are tyou?]  
{*you]  
-[You fix 'tyou' but not bae?]  
[who said that was a typo? ;;} what's the situation carl]  
-[Tuzi invited me over to his house and Idk if I should accept it or not.]  
[FUCK YOU YOURE JOKING]  
-[Not at all.]  
-[He said I'd been looking run down and tried getting me to skip pep rally.]  
[holy fucking shit dude]  
[okay okay]  
[diego says to be careful but we all agree you absolutely fucking have to]  
-[*All* of you agree on yes?]  
[damn straight, you'd be the first one to get the scoop on this guy]  
-[Idk I'm still conflicted about it.]  
[dw we can cover for you, your dad likes me so i can just tell him ur staying the night for studying n shit like that]  
-[You really think I should do it?]  
[we got your back, but if he hurts you, he's gonna catch these fangs]  
-[...Okay, I'll tell him. Do you know if he's left yet?]  
[nah we saw him hanging out outside the gym]  
[wait does that mean he was waiting for u]  
-[Probably yeah.]  
[holy shit go tell hom yes, you better send us pictures]  
[*him]  
-[K, omw down.]  
[glhf carl]

He softly sighed, turning his phone screen off and snatching up his things before rushing out the door. Saint Helena High was hell to him, but it was a hell he'd learned to navigate at breakneck speed after weeks of mentally mapping the place. Based on his estimate, he made it to the turn just before the gymnasium hall in roughly 5 minutes. He skidded to a stop and fumbled with the bag in his arms so he could smooth his hair back down (since when was he so worried about his looks?). Carlos gently peeped around the corner, and just from his quick glimpse, he could see Tuzi leaned against the cold tiled wall, looking at his phone. He swallowed down the returning lump of anxiety before walking out from around the corner.

"Hey, Tuzi!" He cringed when his voice cracked, his call louder than he'd expected. The hybrid lifted his head up, and the tight knot in Carlos' chest unraveled when he spotted the lightest smile on his lips.

"So you did come. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm so sorry, I was in the bathroom cleaning my face off and stuff- A-Anyways! I was wondering if that u-um, offer was still on the table?" The human didn't miss the light flash across his golden eyes, and for once Carlos didn't feel a violent chill invade his body.

"It is. But I thought you'd grown cold feet on the matter?"

"My friends said they'd cover for me, and it's a Friday anyways, s-so. If you'll have me, I could stay the night." He hoped his internal panic wasn't visibly; he hadn't planned to say that part, it'd just tumbled out on impulse. The easiest way to describe Tuzi's eyes in that moment would have been fireflies, and suddenly Carlos didn't feel so bad about going with the flow.

"Yes, of course. Shall I assume we're bound for my place?"

"Your parents are nice, right?"

"I'll let you be the judge for yourself, Demiraz."

* * *

The walk had been surprisingly short in comparison to how long he was usually trekking to make it home. He at least assumed so, he usually had his companions to make the time fly, but it felt like an eternity because of who was at his side right then. Tuzi's hand would occasionally brush his arm or his side when he gestured about during their conversation, and every time without fail, Carlos would jump a little. He was glad Tuzi hadn't seemed to notice, so he could work through his instinctive jolts on his own. At first, he thought it was maybe because of leftover anxiety from earlier, when he'd been ready to call this whole thing a giant gag, or a trick to corner him, but that didn't sound entirely correct. The only reasonable explanation he had in mind was the feeling was alien to him. This wasn't his friends gently grabbing his hand to swing their arms together as they strode home, or the random harsh bumping of bodies in the school halls. This was steady intimacy, or at least the seeds of it sprouting from a dormant possibility.

"Demiraz." He jerked at the mention of his name, cheeks flooding with heat in embarrassment.

"S-Sorry, I tend to zone out a lot, I know it's not good for conversation-"

"On the contrary, I was merely ensuring you didn't stumble over yourself in a trance. Do apply a minimal amount of attention to keep yourself safe, yes?"

"Y-Yes, yes of course," he echoed, licking his lips nervously. Even a minor fuss over his person made his insides twinge with foreign feelings. Tuzi was angelic in how much care he applied to Carlos, and this was all fresh turf to the latter. Nobody but his three closest friends and his own blood had shown this much legitimate  _concern_ towards him.

It felt nice, refreshing even, despite the fast pace of their developing friendship. Was that an appropriate term for this already?

"I'm sure the formality of it has grown on you, but Demiraz?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you have any complaints if in a more private setting, I used your first name?"

"Oh! Oh, not at all, though I'm a little curious why you used my last name to begin with? N-No offense! It's just a little unheard of around here."

"So I've gathered," he rumbled, a hint of mirth to his tone. "It's a gesture of respect I was raised with, and the habit has pursued me in my adolescence."

"..Huh. You sound like a proper gentleman when you talk like that."

"Does that bother you, or was that a compliment?" Carlos had to turn away from his gaze again, though he knew it did nothing to hide the flush creeping into his face.

"It's n-not an issue at all, I was just commenting on your more sophisticated persona."

"I'll assume that blush is a positive response. If you turn back, you can see our destination from here." Carlos glanced forward before quickly snapping his head back to gawk at the mansion in the distance. He vaguely recognized the architecture, having caught a few glances of the house when he'd passed this area for some other reason, but now he was actually  _heading_ there instead of merely glimpsing it in the distance.

"Holy shit, it's huge. oP, I'm sorry, excuse my mouth-"

"Carlos, please, you've heard me curse, I'm not going to frown on you for it."

"It feels indecent-"

"You needn't be so guarded around me, you know." Carlos blinked at the sudden shift in tone, and he could catch the intense shine to his eyes. "I've kept worse secrets than an excited slip of the tongue." He gulped softly, a wisp of anxiety returning.

"A um. L-Little foreboding."

"My apologizes, I'm aware that I sometimes phrase things in a cryptic manner. What I'm implying is you're free to be yourself around me, I'm not the type to take advantage of someone if they open up to me."

"..Y-Yeah, sorry, guess I am a little jittery still."

"It's fine. You'll feel better once you're seated in my abode."

 _But does that mean his bedroom, or his house in general?_   he questioned, quirking a brow. He looked back to the mansion, and he could now clearly make out the mellowed blue shade of paint accented by pristine white. He almost wondered if the Treehelm family had paid to get a fresh coat, or maybe even a mild remodel to the interior, before they'd moved in.

"I've not given my parents the forewarning, so perhaps it would be best for you to allow me the introductions, yes?"

"Y-Yeah, makes sense," Carlos replied, and he couldn't prevent his flinch when Tuzi tangled their fingers together. "U-Um, Tuzi?"

"Is this perhaps a little much?"

"Yes?- No, no! It was just a little sudden, th-that's all." His cheeks burnt with the rush of blood, but he gently gripped at his hand. It was unannounced, yes, but there was an intense deja vu of when he'd be walking down his block, Chelsea's laughter filling his ears and Bea's soft giggling hovering in the air. He didn't want to let go for fear of the magic of this suddenly draining and leaving him in his harsh reality.

"I apologize, I'll inquire your consent next time. Shall we?" he asked, motioning up the porch steps. Carlos stiffly nodded and allowed the hybrid to tug him up the stairs, the painted wood groaning under their weight. He noticed Tuzi rummage around in his school uniform's pocket for a brief spell before he pulled out the house key. Noticing Carlos' observation, he twirled the keys on their loop for a moment before unlocking the door and pulling him inside. "Mother? Father?" he called, his voice monotone yet powerful enough the walls echoed faintly with his call.

"Tuzi?" Carlos assumed it must have been his mother's voice drifting down the winding stairs of the parlor. "You're a little later than usual, you haven't broken the promise, right?"

"Of course not. Be mindful, I brought home a guest." Carlos looked to Tuzi with a wary expression. That was a sort of odd thing to say after coming home—

The clicking of feet over marble made him look back to the stairs, and his jaw nearly dropped. Tuzi's mother was dressed in a shimmering blue gown that matched the exterior completely, the shine of silver and pearls at her neck drawing his eyes. Though her jewelry was stunning, he flicked his attention to her neatly groomed hair. Or more importantly, the snowy rabbit ears that protruded out from her chocolate locks. So this was one half of what had made the wondrous Rose Hare.

"Oh," she started, her voice smooth in the same trained manner as her son, "you brought a classmate home, dear?"

"I hope it doesn't complicate much, I offered to have him over so he could relax after his performance at the pep rally."

"Ah no, it doesn't change anything. Your father's out on an errand, so the house will be fairly empty for a few more hours. But who is this, I might ask?"

"Demiraz, will you do the honors?" Tuzi turned to him, his eyes surprisingly lax.

"Oh, uh, C-Carlos, Carlos Demiraz, ma'am," he dipped his head, desperately willing away the red flush to his ears. He really needed to work on his presentation.

"Well mannered," the woman commented, a gentle laugh to her tone. "You needn't be so stiff with the titles, unlike my husband, I'm perfectly content with simplicity. I'm Roselyn Treehelm, though I imagine it would be a little strange to use my name when we've only just met."

"Y-Yeah, maybe a little. Is there something else I can call you that you're alright with?"

"Mrs. Treehelm is acceptable for now. Maybe once you've had a few more visits, I'll let you call me Rosy," she winked, a quiet groan sounding from Tuzi.

"Mother, please don't encourage him to use  _father's_ nickname for you," he griped, and Carlos had to cover his mouth to stifle the giggle bubbling up. This was his first glance at an annoyed Tuzi, and it was more than a little funny to see the prim and proper hybrid whine.

"Nonsense, more people than just your father call me Rosy;" she hummed back, seemingly pleased with herself. "You should get your friend up to your quarters, I imagine the house isn't very interesting on it's own. We've only just started to settle in, you see."

"I already intended to do so," Tuzi huffed, fingers drumming over the back of Carlos' hand. He glanced down at their hands again, only just remembering that this entire time, they'd been holding hands. She either had chosen not to mention it, or just had honestly not seen them.

"Well go on, shoo shoo children," she ushered, walking to shut the front door and gently push their backs. Tuzi rolled his eyes, and Carlos didn't really catch their banter as they ascended the marble steps. He was too busy trying to soak up the rich scenery, and in the back of his head, he was already scouting out good spots to snap a picture for his trio.

When he dragged himself back out of his stupor, Tuzi was calling halfhearted insults down to his mother while they walked, and he finally felt the hybrid's grasp loosen and their hands separating.

"So.. Which one of these is your room again?"

"The one directly in front of us."

"...Oh- I'm sorry, this is just a lot to take in-"

"I imagine so, you're walking around like you're expecting to fall through ice."

"I feel like I'm gonna get this place dirty," he retorted, and Tuzi gently snorted as he pushed his door open. Carlos hadn't been sure what to expect, but the deep maroon color scheme didn't surprise him much. His walls were painted a deep burgundy, with the carpet colored like wine had been soaking into it for days on end. Even his canopy bed had dark red drapes and sheets, highlighted by the obsidian pillows and blankets. It held a regal aura of subtle danger and quiet dormancy.

"I'm going to assume from the stars in your eyes that you adore it already."

"I-It's. Very pretty, I don't think I could do it justice in words."

"Feel free to look around, I have something to attend to downstairs."

"Oh. Well, alright, I'll try not to get anything messy while you're gone," he admitted, and Tuzi hummed his appreciation before dipping back out the doorway. Carlos gently stalked around the room. He had a few tables strewn around the room, and a desk near the large window covered by drawn curtains. It gave him solace to see the tidy computer set up, with a few figurines to decorate it. He glanced about before setting his bag down on one of the less covered tables, before sparing a look at Tuzi's bed. It looked incredibly soft, and utterly tempting..

Chelsea's voice drifted to him momentarily, and his impulses had grown too strong. He gleefully flopped over onto the mattress, bouncing lightly. It had the faint aroma of rosemary to it, and when he looked up to the canopy, he spotted a mosaic of colorful sticky notes. He couldn't tell what most of them had scribbled down, but he merely traveled the vivid patterns of color across their respective trails. He scooted himself until he could comfortably rest with his head on the many pillows pressed to the headboard. Another stray thought came to mind, and just as quickly, he rolled and nuzzled his face into the soft pillows. So this was where the smell was coming from. He sprawled out across the luxurious sheets, sighing dreamily. He was waiting for this dream to suddenly end, for him to fall asleep here and walk up in his own simple room.

And yet, some obscure and shy part of him hoped that if this was a dream, that he'd never walk up from it.


	7. Courtship Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another Tuzi pov chapter! you got to see how Carlos feels about all of this, and now you get the other half as well uwu

Nearly all of his self control needed to be emphasized to keep himself from nuzzling into Carlos, in any fashion. He understood a little more now why the boy was captivating: his  _scent._ He had no words to describe what the scent itself was—he'd only been close enough to  _just_ catch it—but he had to find some way to analyze it without coming off as a total creep.

It was a common practice to find a perfume that would attract certain hybrids, either as a sign of a mating proposition, or that they were in the market for finding a mate. Several hybrids experienced heat cycles that naturally gave off pheromones, but for a human to have the same effect was something Tuzi had never heard of. He highly doubted he was the type to dress himself to appeal in the romantic aspect, so that ruled out artificial means. In general, Carlos apparently had intense pheromones, judging from how his scent had been still clinging to the jackal's varsity jacket, even a week later. Tuzi's neutral frown soured into a grimace when his mind passed over the jackal.

_Fear isn't a good scent on him._

He exhaled slowly, focusing on leveling out his heart rate. He hadn't even realized it'd started thrumming with an aggressive note. He'd have all the time in the world to figure out this dilemma later, but there was a more important matter at hand. He regretted not asking his tastes in cuisine, but there was enough variety in his home that he could probably figure something out. he hadn't missed the boy's tendency to gravitate towards sweet foods, and he did have a box of sugar wafers in the cupboard—wait, no, he could use the marshmallow fluff and dark chocolate  _with_ the wafers to make something s'mores-esque. There was a little fudge dip left too from when he'd been snacking on strawberries, so he could offer that as well. Worse comes to worse, he'd bring along a couple fruits when he returned to his room. What did he like for entertainment, though? He was musical in tastes, but would he accept the usual movie genres? Tuzi had collected several thrillers and sci-fi movies over the years, but it wasn't the sole focus of his film collection.

He rapped his claws over the counter top while he waited for the chocolate to melt. The human was skittish, but he'd caught him writing poetry in his spare time. Poets typically had a mild fascination with the macabre, but that wasn't a guarantee. If he chose the horror route, he'd likely choose something tame, but still unnerving. So Saw was out of the question completely. Maybe something lighter in humor, like the Scream franchise. Carlos seemed to stay in high spirits, so perhaps a movie that mocked itself would offer some reprieve from the mild gore that probably would frighten the poor thing.

_He's mousy in appearance, though perhaps this is merely an oversight on my part. Looks are deceiving, even if his body language matches._

Satisfied with his preparations, he spooned the chocolate over the wafers, meticulously crafting what he was referring to as pompous s'mores. He'd have to request more mundane food supplies in advance, if he could convince Carlos to visit again. He crunched on one of his snacks, shrugging to the empty kitchen. Wasn't that bad, though the wafers were a little bland. He'd get something more appropriate next time, like chocolate flavored. Then again, the box had been opened for over a week, they likely were just before the point of becoming stale.

Snatching up a few oranges and apples in his arms, he carefully walked back up the stairs with his platter. He had to force down the impulse to snicker once he spotted Carlos face down in his pillows, practically hugging one of them to his face.

"I take it you enjoy the luxury of a King size?" The other visibly jumped, the pillows muffling his surprised yelp. He waited until the other sat up to step back into his room, nudging the door shut with his heel.

"Ah, yes, it's quite comfy- You brought food up?"

"I wasn't aware of your tastes, so I chose a few safer options. What movie genres do you enjoy?"

"Oh, uh. Comedy, romances, action, stuff like that. Why do you ask?"  _Damn. Hm._

"Are you so easily terrified that horror would be out of the question, by chance?"

"S-Some of them admittedly give me a weak stomach, but I can handle some others. That isn't all you have, right-"

"It takes up a large section of my shelf, but I do possess other options. You're the guest, so I figured it appropriate for you to have the choice."

"I'm not really picky, just, no giant gore fests."  _An opening, perhaps?_

"What is your general tolerance for gore?" he asked, sitting down on the bed and placing down the platter and fruits. "If it's more unrealistic, are you able to handle it?"

"Yeah, if it's like. Spaghetti guts, I'll be okay. Why, do you have a movie in mind?" Carlos inquired, picking up one of the s'mores and carefully scooping out some of the fudge. The hybrid couldn't perfectly contain his quiet hum of amusement when he squeaked at some dribbling into his hand.

"I was considering a Scream marathon, but as I said before, the choice is yours."

"I. I could probably handle Scream, yeah- Oh! I was going to ask, if I'm staying overnight, is there a guest room, or?"

"I'm not opposed to you sleeping in here." The hare blinked at the boy's immediate fluster. "The bed's large enough you should be comfortable, yes?"

"I-Isn't it a little rude to take the host's bed, though?" he asked, his tone high pitched.

"I insist. We've moved a little further beyond formalities, or at least that was the intended impression."

"..Y-Yeah, I guess so-"

"Excellent. I'll get the movie set up."

* * *

Tuzi wasn't convinced that his guest had been 100% okay with the movie pick, but then again, he wasn't going to kick up a fuss over it. Especially when just at the infamous intro, and with the messy sloshing of false intestines, Carlos immediately had squeaked and hidden his face in Tuzi's shoulder, only looking back up when the worst of it was over. His ears had been tinged with an embarrassed red, and Tuzi offered a few back pats to ease his fluster. He'd gently apologized for his 'wimpy nature' though Tuzi couldn't really complain when he'd gotten his smell all over Tuzi's shirt. Up close, it reminded him immensely of apple blossoms. This wasn't the first time someone's pheromones were similar to a flower, though he'd never met a human with it.

_Peculiar. Does his circle smell this too, or am I the first to notice? Surely I can't be, there are hybrids with more attuned scent than I._

They made quiet conversation during the movie, nothing worthy of analysis, but it'd been quite nice. Carlos had become invested enough he agreed to at least making it to the third movie. They finished the entire franchise, only pausing for quick breaks or when Tuzi's mother came in to poke at them for a spell. It was past nine once they finished, the sunlight gone from the sky.

"I take it you enjoyed yourself, Carlos?"

"Yeah, it was pretty nice. It's been a long time since I've had a movie night, with anyone besides Chell 'n Bea. And even then, it's been weeks since our last hang out."

"Of your own accord, or because of outside influence?" he asked, sipping from his mug. They'd taken a quick break to make some green tea, with Carlos adding a generous amount of honey and sugar to his lemon and ginger tea, and Tuzi drinking straight up black tea.

"Kinda both. I've been so busy with school work, then coming home to mellow out, rinse and repeat, that I hardly go out. That, and my parents don't like guests over much. It's funny, me and my sister have a buddy system for covering each others' tracks, but I've never really had to ask her for help. I'm not that gutsy, to be honest-"

"Do you like taking chances, or do you play it safe more often?"

"I like safe bets, kinda comes with the anxiety, eheh. What about you? Are you the thrill seeking type?"

"...You could call it that, yes."  _He doesn't need to know. He **won't** know if I can help it._ "Contingency plans are good for soothing insecurities."

"That's true," Carlos agreed, falling quiet afterwards. Tuzi tilted his head to more comfortably prop himself up, fixing the boy with a calculative gaze. Carlos nervously shifted, letting the silence continue.

 _He still has some unease. Perhaps I could use this to an advantage._ He swung his legs off the bed, stretching his arms overhead and grunting when a few vertebrae popped in his spine. He could feel the prickle of eyes to his back as he slid off the sheets and strode over to his window, pushing the curtains aside and opening them.

"It's nice out tonight, low humidity. How adventurous are you feeling, Demiraz?"

"Oh, uh. I'm a little antsy after the movies, why do you ask?"

"Have you ever walked outside when everyone's gone to rest, so it's just you and the moonlight?" He looked over his shoulder to Carlos, who was still leaning against the plush pillows with his legs crossed.

"Not really, no," he admitted, eyebrows knitted in mild confusion. Judging from his wary expression, Tuzi's eyes must have had an excited light to them.

"Would you be willing to do that, though?"

"I'm. Not opposed to the idea? Tuzi, where are you going with this--"

"Let's roam in the shadows." He'd turned around so his back was pressed to the windowsill, his elbows resting and his hands hanging over the edge. This was a risky move across the chest board, but if it went well, their relationship would be stronger for it. Trust had to be built carefully; such a thing was hard to earn, easy to lose. Already, his phrasing seemed to cause the human to bristle. "If you're worried, we can stay in the yard."

"A-Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, we just watched a bunch of movies where doing something dumb could get you killed-"  _Ahh, so that's why he's so nervous._

"Unlike most of the victims, we're much closer to society. Besides, in my time of living in a high class family, I've learned plenty of self defense."

"Like karate, judo, stuff like that?"

"Not exactly those options, but I'm well aware of how hand to hand combat works. If nothing else, nearly everything could become a weapon if used correctly." He couldn't outright admit his level of knowledge without the risk of terrifying the poor boy, and that risk was far too great to even consider ousting himself.

"That's an interesting outlook on it, I guess," Carlos mumbled. "..If. If it's a short walk or something, I'd be okay with it."  _Success._

"Shall I lead the way, then?" he asked, walking over and offering him one hand. The way he gingerly took his hand stirred the impulse to just pick up the boy and never let go, but he crammed down the sudden instinct. What was it about him that made his want to protect so  _strong?_ It was as impressive as it was worrying. He thumbed over the back of his hand gently. "Is it alright to hold your hand again?"

"Wh- Oh. Yeah, it's fine," he said absently, his fingers curving when they tangled back together. Every subtle movement was gingerly executed, like a deer timidly creeping through the brush. It was simultaneously intriguing and concerning.

_Someone broke his spirits, and perhaps his spine as well. Or was he always a wallflower? No matter. If I make it into his clique, that'll change. Slowly, I don't plan on rewriting him completely. But he deserves to hold his head high, without remorse._

He pulled Carlos along, watching him marvel at the halls once more. He'd have to find a way over to his home; he imagined it wasn't as fancy as this mansion, but there was likely some appeal to it. He already was imagining tighter halls, simple wallpaper, and packed rooms. He couldn't help but think of it as Carlos' own rabbit hollow. He hoped his scent lingered there too, as much as he knew the thought was morbid.

"Hey, Tuzi?" His voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced to the boy who'd clung onto his arm at some point.

"Yes? Have you changed your mind?"

"No, not that, just." He was hesitant, and he gently separated from his grip to pull his shoes on while Tuzi did the same. "Where did you live before this place?"

"A town called Goldcrest. The place's population had been dwindling down to a ghost town, so father was hoping to look for a change in scenery." This was only a minor lie. Yes, Goldcrest had been a sparsely populated area, but it hadn't been the lack of people that urged his family to leave.

"Did you live in a mansion there, too?" he asked once more, pulling his hoodie on and grabbing for his hand again. Tuzi allowed it, their fingers automatically moving to lock. He knew this wasn't something that could be rushed, but he couldn't help the pleased thrill that sparked. This was a good sign, but he couldn't just take it and run with it. Genuine, not grooming. This was someone he wanted to learn about, not use as a mere pawn.

"I did. It was smaller than this one. Older as well." He gently tugged Carlos outside and shut the door, replacing his keys in his pockets. It felt colder now that they were outside instead of merely feeling the implications of a cool breeze drift in.

"Do you like it here better or? I hope it wasn't hard to move."

"It was fine. I mostly associated with higher class families, and I can't say honestly that I built anything worth saving there." Carlos nodded slowly, the pair walking down the sidewalk before separating from the light behind them. The shrubbery was still well groomed, though the grass was due for trimming.

"Uh, Tuzi? How well do you see in the dark?"

"Completely darkness blinds me in the same manner as humans, but I see quite well in dim lighting." He carefully lead Carlos around until they'd made it to the backyard. It wasn't anything extremely special, with a small patch of trees and a fence at the far back, but there was one quality he'd figured would appeal to his guest. "You're not cold, are you?"

"A little, but it could be worse. I thought you said we'd stay in the yard?"

"I did. But there's something to the back of my property that I assumed would be your cup of tea."

"Oh? What is it?-- eEP!" Carlos immediately wrapped his arms around his neck once he was hoisted up, and Tuzi had to hold his breath to keep from just shoving his face into his chest. He could smell the lemon and ginger tea still clinging to his shirt, and it only complimented the apple blossom pheromones. It was too soon, and his own impulse was starting to weird him out.

"Hang on." He shifted so he could hold Carlos up with one arm, gripping the biting wood of the decaying fence before leaping over it. He'd jostled him a little in his hop, but otherwise his grip had held strong. He gently sat the other back on his feet, though he was still gripping onto Tuzi's jacket like he expected the ground to fall away. "You're a poet, yes?"

"Sometimes. Why do you ask?" Tuzi gently cupped his chin and turned his head, and almost immediately Carlo' eyes lit up. The pond's edge was a little murky, but the towering cattails and bordering water lillies accented it perfectly. The stagnant waters reflected the moon like a silver mirror plunged into the ground, only overshadowed by the trees at its sides. Carlos separated tentatively, approaching the pond slowly before sinking down near the bank. Tuzi noticed he'd taken out his phone as he sat down besides him, snapping a quick picture before putting it back away. "It's gorgeous. Did you know this was back here when you moved in?"

"Nope. I wandered back here the first night and spotted it. Do you want to stay out here?"

"Absolutely," he mumbled, eyes already lost as he searched the small paradise. Tentatively, Tuzi hooked an arm around the other, and Carlos leaned against him of his own accord. They conversed quietly, about frivolous things and more mournful topics. It took both of them a while to realize the moon had already moved across the sky, now floating above the other end of the pond. Tuzi had to hold onto his hand to keep him from tiredly stumbling up the steps and tripping, though he must not have minded. They bid their good-nights to Roselyn as they passed, and they let their hands part so Tuzi could bring the dishes down to his kitchen. When he returned to his room, Carlos had already settled under the comforters, glasses folded up on the nightstand besides his bed. He quirked a small smile at the sight and quietly shut the door. His jacket was tossed onto one of the tables before he slid under the blankets as well, keeping to his half of the bed. He already had a couple plans for breakfast, but he'd worry about it in the morning. He was just happy to see the boy smile so freely under the starry sky, without worry or anxiety.

In the midst of his pleased haze, he vowed to make that smile happen again, before letting himself join his guest in a dreamless sleep.


End file.
